No More Learning

Jack Maldon yet. I believe,' he said this with some
hesitation, 'I penetrate your motive, and it makes the thing more
difficult. '

'My motive,' returned Doctor Strong, 'is to make some suitable provision
for a cousin, and an old playfellow, of Annie's. '

'Yes, I know,' said Mr. Wickfield; 'at home or abroad. '

'Aye! ' replied the Doctor, apparently wondering why he emphasized those
words so much. 'At home or abroad. '

'Your own expression, you know,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'Or abroad. '

'Surely,' the Doctor answered. 'Surely. One or other. '

'One or other? Have you no choice? ' asked Mr. Wickfield.

'No,' returned the Doctor.

'No? ' with astonishment.

'Not the least. '

'No motive,' said Mr. Wickfield, 'for meaning abroad, and not at home? '

'No,' returned the Doctor.

'I am bound to believe you, and of course I do believe you,' said Mr.
Wickfield. 'It might have simplified my office very much, if I had known
it before. But I confess I entertained another impression. '

Doctor Strong regarded him with a puzzled and doubting look,
which almost immediately subsided into a smile that gave me great
encouragement; for it was full of amiability and sweetness, and there
was a simplicity in it, and indeed in his whole manner, when the
studious, pondering frost upon it was got through, very attractive and
hopeful to a young scholar like me. Repeating 'no', and 'not the least',
and other short assurances to the same purport, Doctor Strong jogged
on before us, at a queer, uneven pace; and we followed: Mr. Wickfield,
looking grave, I observed, and shaking his head to himself, without
knowing that I saw him.

The schoolroom was a pretty large hall, on the quietest side of the
house, confronted by the stately stare of some half-dozen of the great
urns, and commanding a peep of an old secluded garden belonging to the
Doctor, where the peaches were ripening on the sunny south wall. There
were two great aloes, in tubs, on the turf outside the windows; the
broad hard leaves of which plant (looking as if they were made of
painted tin) have ever since, by association, been symbolical to me
of silence and retirement. About five-and-twenty boys were studiously
engaged at their books when we went in, but they rose to give the Doctor
good morning, and remained standing when they saw Mr. Wickfield and me.

'A new boy, young gentlemen,' said the Doctor; 'Trotwood Copperfield. '

One Adams, who was the head-boy, then stepped out of his place and
welcomed me. He looked like a young clergyman, in his white cravat, but
he was very affable and good-humoured; and he showed me my place, and
presented me to the masters, in a gentlemanly way that would have put me
at my ease, if anything could.

It seemed to me so long, however, since I had been among such boys,
or among any companions of my own age, except Mick Walker and Mealy
Potatoes, that I felt as strange as ever I have done in my life. I was
so conscious of having passed through scenes of which they could have
no knowledge, and of having acquired experiences foreign to my age,
appearance, and condition as one of them, that I half believed it was an
imposture to come there as an ordinary little schoolboy. I had become,
in the Murdstone and Grinby time, however short or long it may have
been, so unused to the sports and games of boys, that I knew I was
awkward and inexperienced in the commonest things belonging to them.
Whatever I had learnt, had so slipped away from me in the sordid cares
of my life from day to night, that now, when I was examined about what
I knew, I knew nothing, and was put into the lowest form of the school.
But, troubled as I was, by my want of boyish skill, and of book-learning
too, I was made infinitely more uncomfortable by the consideration,
that, in what I did know, I was much farther removed from my companions
than in what I did not. My mind ran upon what they would think, if they
knew of my familiar acquaintance with the King's Bench Prison? Was there
anything about me which would reveal my proceedings in connexion with
the Micawber family--all those pawnings, and sellings, and suppers--in
spite of myself? Suppose some of the boys had seen me coming through
Canterbury, wayworn and ragged, and should find me out? What would they
say, who made so light of money, if they could know how I had scraped my
halfpence together, for the purchase of my daily saveloy and beer, or
my slices of pudding? How would it affect them, who were so innocent of
London life, and London streets, to discover how knowing I was (and was
ashamed to be) in some of the meanest phases of both? All this ran in
my head so much, on that first day at Doctor Strong's, that I felt
distrustful of my slightest look and gesture; shrunk within myself
whensoever I was approached by one of my new schoolfellows; and hurried
off the minute school was over, afraid of committing myself in my
response to any friendly notice or advance.

But there was such an influence in Mr. Wickfield's old house, that when
I knocked at it, with my new school-books under my arm, I began to feel
my uneasiness softening away. As I went up to my airy old room, the
grave shadow of the staircase seemed to fall upon my doubts and fears,
and to make the past more indistinct. I sat there, sturdily conning my
books, until dinner-time (we were out of school for good at three); and
went down, hopeful of becoming a passable sort of boy yet.

Agnes was in the drawing-room, waiting for her father, who was detained
by someone in his office. She met me with her pleasant smile, and asked
me how I liked the school. I told her I should like it very much, I
hoped; but I was a little strange to it at first.

'You have never been to school,' I said, 'have you? ' 'Oh yes! Every
day. '

'Ah, but you mean here, at your own home? '

'Papa couldn't spare me to go anywhere else,' she answered, smiling and
shaking her head. 'His housekeeper must be in his house, you know. '

'He is very fond of you, I am sure,' I said.

She nodded 'Yes,' and went to the door to listen for his coming up, that
she might meet him on the stairs. But, as he was not there, she came
back again.

'Mama has been dead ever since I was born,' she said, in her quiet way.
'I only know her picture, downstairs. I saw you looking at it yesterday.
Did you think whose it was? '

I told her yes, because it was so like herself.

'Papa says so, too,' said Agnes, pleased. 'Hark! That's papa now! '

Her bright calm face lighted up with pleasure as she went to meet him,
and as they came in, hand in hand. He greeted me cordially; and told
me I should certainly be happy under Doctor Strong, who was one of the
gentlest of men.

'There may be some, perhaps--I don't know that there are--who abuse
his kindness,' said Mr. Wickfield. 'Never be one of those, Trotwood, in
anything. He is the least suspicious of mankind; and whether that's
a merit, or whether it's a blemish, it deserves consideration in all
dealings with the Doctor, great or small. '

He spoke, I thought, as if he were weary, or dissatisfied with
something; but I did not pursue the question in my mind, for dinner was
just then announced, and we went down and took the same seats as before.

We had scarcely done so, when Uriah Heep put in his red head and his
lank hand at the door, and said:

'Here's Mr. Maldon begs the favour of a word, sir. '

'I am but this moment quit of Mr. Maldon,' said his master.

'Yes, sir,' returned Uriah; 'but Mr. Maldon has come back, and he begs
the favour of a word. '

As he held the door open with his hand, Uriah looked at me, and looked
at Agnes, and looked at the dishes, and looked at the plates, and looked
at every object in the room, I thought,--yet seemed to look at nothing;
he made such an appearance all the while of keeping his red eyes
dutifully on his master. 'I beg your pardon. It's only to say, on
reflection,' observed a voice behind Uriah, as Uriah's head was
pushed away, and the speaker's substituted--'pray excuse me for this
intrusion--that as it seems I have no choice in the matter, the sooner
I go abroad the better. My cousin Annie did say, when we talked of it,
that she liked to have her friends within reach rather than to have them
banished, and the old Doctor--'

'Doctor Strong, was that? ' Mr. Wickfield interposed, gravely.

'Doctor Strong, of course,' returned the other; 'I call him the old
Doctor; it's all the same, you know. '

'I don't know,' returned Mr. Wickfield.

'Well, Doctor Strong,' said the other--'Doctor Strong was of the same
mind, I believed. But as it appears from the course you take with me he
has changed his mind, why there's no more to be said, except that the
sooner I am off, the better. Therefore, I thought I'd come back and say,
that the sooner I am off the better. When a plunge is to be made into
the water, it's of no use lingering on the bank. '

'There shall be as little lingering as possible, in your case, Mr.
Maldon, you may depend upon it,' said Mr. Wickfield.

'Thank'ee,' said the other. 'Much obliged. I don't want to look a
gift-horse in the mouth, which is not a gracious thing to do; otherwise,
I dare say, my cousin Annie could easily arrange it in her own way. I
suppose Annie would only have to say to the old Doctor--'

'Meaning that Mrs. Strong would only have to say to her husband--do I
follow you? ' said Mr. Wickfield.

'Quite so,' returned the other, '--would only have to say, that she
wanted such and such a thing to be so and so; and it would be so and so,
as a matter of course. '

'And why as a matter of course, Mr. Maldon? ' asked Mr. Wickfield,
sedately eating his dinner.

'Why, because Annie's a charming young girl, and the old Doctor--Doctor
Strong, I mean--is not quite a charming young boy,' said Mr. Jack
Maldon, laughing. 'No offence to anybody, Mr. Wickfield. I only mean
that I suppose some compensation is fair and reasonable in that sort of
marriage. '

'Compensation to the lady, sir? ' asked Mr. Wickfield gravely.

'To the lady, sir,' Mr. Jack Maldon answered, laughing. But appearing
to remark that Mr. Wickfield went on with his dinner in the same sedate,
immovable manner, and that there was no hope of making him relax a
muscle of his face, he added: 'However, I have said what I came to say,
and, with another apology for this intrusion, I may take myself off. Of
course I shall observe your directions, in considering the matter as one
to be arranged between you and me solely, and not to be referred to, up
at the Doctor's. '

'Have you dined? ' asked Mr. Wickfield, with a motion of his hand towards
the table.

'Thank'ee. I am going to dine,' said Mr. Maldon, 'with my cousin Annie.
Good-bye! '

Mr. Wickfield, without rising, looked after him thoughtfully as he went
out. He was rather a shallow sort of young gentleman, I thought, with
a handsome face, a rapid utterance, and a confident, bold air. And this
was the first I ever saw of Mr. Jack Maldon; whom I had not expected to
see so soon, when I heard the Doctor speak of him that morning.

When we had dined, we went upstairs again, where everything went on
exactly as on the previous day. Agnes set the glasses and decanters in
the same corner, and Mr. Wickfield sat down to drink, and drank a good
deal. Agnes played the piano to him, sat by him, and worked and talked,
and played some games at dominoes with me. In good time she made tea;
and afterwards, when I brought down my books, looked into them, and
showed me what she knew of them (which was no slight matter, though she
said it was), and what was the best way to learn and understand them.
I see her, with her modest, orderly, placid manner, and I hear her
beautiful calm voice, as I write these words. The influence for all
good, which she came to exercise over me at a later time, begins
already to descend upon my breast. I love little Em'ly, and I don't love
Agnes--no, not at all in that way--but I feel that there are goodness,
peace, and truth, wherever Agnes is; and that the soft light of the
coloured window in the church, seen long ago, falls on her always, and
on me when I am near her, and on everything around.

The time having come for her withdrawal for the night, and she having
left us, I gave Mr. Wickfield my hand, preparatory to going away myself.
But he checked me and said: 'Should you like to stay with us, Trotwood,
or to go elsewhere? '

'To stay,' I answered, quickly.

'You are sure? '

'If you please. If I may! '

'Why, it's but a dull life that we lead here, boy, I am afraid,' he
said.

'Not more dull for me than Agnes, sir. Not dull at all! '

'Than Agnes,' he repeated, walking slowly to the great chimney-piece,
and leaning against it. 'Than Agnes! '

He had drank wine that evening (or I fancied it), until his eyes were
bloodshot. Not that I could see them now, for they were cast down, and
shaded by his hand; but I had noticed them a little while before.

'Now I wonder,' he muttered, 'whether my Agnes tires of me. When should
I ever tire of her! But that's different, that's quite different. '

He was musing, not speaking to me; so I remained quiet.

'A dull old house,' he said, 'and a monotonous life; but I must have
her near me. I must keep her near me. If the thought that I may die and
leave my darling, or that my darling may die and leave me, comes like a
spectre, to distress my happiest hours, and is only to be drowned in--'

He did not supply the word; but pacing slowly to the place where he had
sat, and mechanically going through the action of pouring wine from the
empty decanter, set it down and paced back again.

'If it is miserable to bear, when she is here,' he said, 'what would it
be, and she away? No, no, no. I cannot try that. '

He leaned against the chimney-piece, brooding so long that I could not
decide whether to run the risk of disturbing him by going, or to remain
quietly where I was, until he should come out of his reverie. At length
he aroused himself, and looked about the room until his eyes encountered
mine.

'Stay with us, Trotwood, eh? ' he said in his usual manner, and as if
he were answering something I had just said. 'I am glad of it. You are
company to us both. It is wholesome to have you here. Wholesome for me,
wholesome for Agnes, wholesome perhaps for all of us. '

'I am sure it is for me, sir,' I said. 'I am so glad to be here. '

'That's a fine fellow! ' said Mr. Wickfield. 'As long as you are glad
to be here, you shall stay here. ' He shook hands with me upon it, and
clapped me on the back; and told me that when I had anything to do
at night after Agnes had left us, or when I wished to read for my own
pleasure, I was free to come down to his room, if he were there and if
I desired it for company's sake, and to sit with him. I thanked him for
his consideration; and, as he went down soon afterwards, and I was
not tired, went down too, with a book in my hand, to avail myself, for
half-an-hour, of his permission.

But, seeing a light in the little round office, and immediately feeling
myself attracted towards Uriah Heep, who had a sort of fascination for
me, I went in there instead. I found Uriah reading a great fat book,
with such demonstrative attention, that his lank forefinger followed up
every line as he read, and made clammy tracks along the page (or so I
fully believed) like a snail.

'You are working late tonight, Uriah,' says I.

'Yes, Master Copperfield,' says Uriah.

As I was getting on the stool opposite, to talk to him more
conveniently, I observed that he had not such a thing as a smile about
him, and that he could only widen his mouth and make two hard creases
down his cheeks, one on each side, to stand for one.

'I am not doing office-work, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah.

'What work, then? ' I asked.

'I am improving my legal knowledge, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. 'I
am going through Tidd's Practice. Oh, what a writer Mr. Tidd is, Master
Copperfield!
'

My stool was such a tower of observation, that as I watched him reading
on again, after this rapturous exclamation, and following up the lines
with his forefinger, I observed that his nostrils, which were thin and
pointed, with sharp dints in them, had a singular and most uncomfortable
way of expanding and contracting themselves--that they seemed to twinkle
instead of his eyes, which hardly ever twinkled at all.

'I suppose you are quite a great lawyer? ' I said, after looking at him
for some time.

'Me, Master Copperfield? ' said Uriah. 'Oh, no! I'm a very umble person. '

It was no fancy of mine about his hands, I observed; for he frequently
ground the palms against each other as if to squeeze them dry and
warm, besides often wiping them, in a stealthy way, on his
pocket-handkerchief.

'I am well aware that I am the umblest person going,' said Uriah Heep,
modestly; 'let the other be where he may. My mother is likewise a very
umble person. We live in a numble abode, Master Copperfield, but have
much to be thankful for. My father's former calling was umble. He was a
sexton. '

'What is he now? ' I asked.

'He is a partaker of glory at present, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah
Heep. 'But we have much to be thankful for. How much have I to be
thankful for in living with Mr. Wickfield! '

I asked Uriah if he had been with Mr. Wickfield long?

'I have been with him, going on four year, Master Copperfield,' said
Uriah; shutting up his book, after carefully marking the place where he
had left off. 'Since a year after my father's death. How much have I
to be thankful for, in that! How much have I to be thankful for, in Mr.
Wickfield's kind intention to give me my articles, which would otherwise
not lay within the umble means of mother and self! '

'Then, when your articled time is over, you'll be a regular lawyer, I
suppose? ' said I.

'With the blessing of Providence, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah.

'Perhaps you'll be a partner in Mr. Wickfield's business, one of these
days,' I said, to make myself agreeable; 'and it will be Wickfield and
Heep, or Heep late Wickfield. '

'Oh no, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah, shaking his head, 'I am
much too umble for that! '

He certainly did look uncommonly like the carved face on the beam
outside my window, as he sat, in his humility, eyeing me sideways, with
his mouth widened, and the creases in his cheeks.

'Mr. Wickfield is a most excellent man, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah.
'If you have known him long, you know it, I am sure, much better than I
can inform you. '

I replied that I was certain he was; but that I had not known him long
myself, though he was a friend of my aunt's.

'Oh, indeed, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. 'Your aunt is a sweet
lady, Master Copperfield! '

He had a way of writhing when he wanted to express enthusiasm, which was
very ugly; and which diverted my attention from the compliment he had
paid my relation, to the snaky twistings of his throat and body.

'A sweet lady, Master Copperfield! ' said Uriah Heep. 'She has a great
admiration for Miss Agnes, Master Copperfield, I believe? '

I said, 'Yes,' boldly; not that I knew anything about it, Heaven forgive
me!

'I hope you have, too, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah. 'But I am sure
you must have. '

'Everybody must have,' I returned.

'Oh, thank you, Master Copperfield,' said Uriah Heep, 'for that remark!
It is so true! Umble as I am, I know it is so true! Oh, thank you,
Master Copperfield! ' He writhed himself quite off his stool in the
excitement of his feelings, and, being off, began to make arrangements
for going home.

'Mother will be expecting me,' he said, referring to a pale,
inexpressive-faced watch in his pocket, 'and getting uneasy; for though
we are very umble, Master Copperfield, we are much attached to one
another. If you would come and see us, any afternoon, and take a cup of
tea at our lowly dwelling, mother would be as proud of your company as I
should be. '

I said I should be glad to come.

'Thank you, Master Copperfield,' returned Uriah, putting his book
away upon the shelf--'I suppose you stop here, some time, Master
Copperfield? '

I said I was going to be brought up there, I believed, as long as I
remained at school.

'Oh, indeed! ' exclaimed Uriah. 'I should think YOU would come into the
business at last, Master Copperfield! '

I protested that I had no views of that sort, and that no such scheme
was entertained in my behalf by anybody; but Uriah insisted on blandly
replying to all my assurances, 'Oh, yes, Master Copperfield, I should
think you would, indeed! ' and, 'Oh, indeed, Master Copperfield, I should
think you would, certainly! ' over and over again. Being, at last, ready
to leave the office for the night, he asked me if it would suit my
convenience to have the light put out; and on my answering 'Yes,'
instantly extinguished it. After shaking hands with me--his hand felt
like a fish, in the dark--he opened the door into the street a very
little, and crept out, and shut it, leaving me to grope my way back into
the house: which cost me some trouble and a fall over his stool. This
was the proximate cause, I suppose, of my dreaming about him, for what
appeared to me to be half the night; and dreaming, among other things,
that he had launched Mr. Peggotty's house on a piratical expedition,
with a black flag at the masthead, bearing the inscription 'Tidd's
Practice', under which diabolical ensign he was carrying me and little
Em'ly to the Spanish Main, to be drowned.

I got a little the better of my uneasiness when I went to school
next day, and a good deal the better next day, and so shook it off by
degrees, that in less than a fortnight I was quite at home, and happy,
among my new companions. I was awkward enough in their games, and
backward enough in their studies; but custom would improve me in the
first respect, I hoped, and hard work in the second. Accordingly, I
went to work very hard, both in play and in earnest, and gained great
commendation. And, in a very little while, the Murdstone and Grinby life
became so strange to me that I hardly believed in it, while my present
life grew so familiar, that I seemed to have been leading it a long
time.

Doctor Strong's was an excellent school; as different from Mr. Creakle's
as good is from evil. It was very gravely and decorously ordered, and
on a sound system; with an appeal, in everything, to the honour and good
faith of the boys, and an avowed intention to rely on their possession
of those qualities unless they proved themselves unworthy of it, which
worked wonders. We all felt that we had a part in the management of
the place, and in sustaining its character and dignity. Hence, we soon
became warmly attached to it--I am sure I did for one, and I never knew,
in all my time, of any other boy being otherwise--and learnt with a good
will, desiring to do it credit. We had noble games out of hours, and
plenty of liberty; but even then, as I remember, we were well spoken of
in the town, and rarely did any disgrace, by our appearance or manner,
to the reputation of Doctor Strong and Doctor Strong's boys.

Some of the higher scholars boarded in the Doctor's house, and through
them I learned, at second hand, some particulars of the Doctor's
history--as, how he had not yet been married twelve months to the
beautiful young lady I had seen in the study, whom he had married for
love; for she had not a sixpence, and had a world of poor relations (so
our fellows said) ready to swarm the Doctor out of house and home. Also,
how the Doctor's cogitating manner was attributable to his being always
engaged in looking out for Greek roots; which, in my innocence and
ignorance, I supposed to be a botanical furor on the Doctor's part,
especially as he always looked at the ground when he walked about,
until I understood that they were roots of words, with a view to a new
Dictionary which he had in contemplation. Adams, our head-boy, who had
a turn for mathematics, had made a calculation, I was informed, of the
time this Dictionary would take in completing, on the Doctor's plan, and
at the Doctor's rate of going. He considered that it might be done
in one thousand six hundred and forty-nine years, counting from the
Doctor's last, or sixty-second, birthday.

But the Doctor himself was the idol of the whole school: and it must
have been a badly composed school if he had been anything else, for
he was the kindest of men; with a simple faith in him that might have
touched the stone hearts of the very urns upon the wall. As he walked up
and down that part of the courtyard which was at the side of the house,
with the stray rooks and jackdaws looking after him with their heads
cocked slyly, as if they knew how much more knowing they were in worldly
affairs than he, if any sort of vagabond could only get near enough to
his creaking shoes to attract his attention to one sentence of a tale
of distress, that vagabond was made for the next two days. It was so
notorious in the house, that the masters and head-boys took pains to cut
these marauders off at angles, and to get out of windows, and turn them
out of the courtyard, before they could make the Doctor aware of their
presence; which was sometimes happily effected within a few yards of
him, without his knowing anything of the matter, as he jogged to and
fro. Outside his own domain, and unprotected, he was a very sheep for
the shearers. He would have taken his gaiters off his legs, to give
away. In fact, there was a story current among us (I have no idea, and
never had, on what authority, but I have believed it for so many
years that I feel quite certain it is true), that on a frosty day, one
winter-time, he actually did bestow his gaiters on a beggar-woman, who
occasioned some scandal in the neighbourhood by exhibiting a fine infant
from door to door, wrapped in those garments, which were universally
recognized, being as well known in the vicinity as the Cathedral. The
legend added that the only person who did not identify them was the
Doctor himself, who, when they were shortly afterwards displayed at the
door of a little second-hand shop of no very good repute, where such
things were taken in exchange for gin, was more than once observed to
handle them approvingly, as if admiring some curious novelty in the
pattern, and considering them an improvement on his own.

It was very pleasant to see the Doctor with his pretty young wife. He
had a fatherly, benignant way of showing his fondness for her, which
seemed in itself to express a good man. I often saw them walking in the
garden where the peaches were, and I sometimes had a nearer observation
of them in the study or the parlour. She appeared to me to take great
care of the Doctor, and to like him very much, though I never thought
her vitally interested in the Dictionary: some cumbrous fragments of
which work the Doctor always carried in his pockets, and in the lining
of his hat, and generally seemed to be expounding to her as they walked
about.

I saw a good deal of Mrs. Strong, both because she had taken a liking
for me on the morning of my introduction to the Doctor, and was always
afterwards kind to me, and interested in me; and because she was very
fond of Agnes, and was often backwards and forwards at our house. There
was a curious constraint between her and Mr. Wickfield, I thought (of
whom she seemed to be afraid), that never wore off. When she came there
of an evening, she always shrunk from accepting his escort home, and ran
away with me instead. And sometimes, as we were running gaily across
the Cathedral yard together, expecting to meet nobody, we would meet Mr.
Jack Maldon, who was always surprised to see us.

Mrs. Strong's mama was a lady I took great delight in. Her name was Mrs.
Markleham; but our boys used to call her the Old Soldier, on account of
her generalship, and the skill with which she marshalled great forces
of relations against the Doctor. She was a little, sharp-eyed woman,
who used to wear, when she was dressed, one unchangeable cap, ornamented
with some artificial flowers, and two artificial butterflies supposed
to be hovering above the flowers. There was a superstition among us
that this cap had come from France, and could only originate in the
workmanship of that ingenious nation: but all I certainly know about it,
is, that it always made its appearance of an evening, wheresoever Mrs.
Markleham made HER appearance; that it was carried about to friendly
meetings in a Hindoo basket; that the butterflies had the gift of
trembling constantly; and that they improved the shining hours at Doctor
Strong's expense, like busy bees.

I observed the Old Soldier--not to adopt the name disrespectfully--to
pretty good advantage, on a night which is made memorable to me by
something else I shall relate. It was the night of a little party at the
Doctor's, which was given on the occasion of Mr. Jack Maldon's departure
for India, whither he was going as a cadet, or something of that kind:
Mr. Wickfield having at length arranged the business. It happened to be
the Doctor's birthday, too. We had had a holiday, had made presents to
him in the morning, had made a speech to him through the head-boy, and
had cheered him until we were hoarse, and until he had shed tears. And
now, in the evening, Mr. Wickfield, Agnes, and I, went to have tea with
him in his private capacity.

Mr. Jack Maldon was there, before us. Mrs. Strong, dressed in white,
with cherry-coloured ribbons, was playing the piano, when we went in;
and he was leaning over her to turn the leaves. The clear red and
white of her complexion was not so blooming and flower-like as usual, I
thought, when she turned round; but she looked very pretty, Wonderfully
pretty.

'I have forgotten, Doctor,' said Mrs. Strong's mama, when we were
seated, 'to pay you the compliments of the day--though they are, as you
may suppose, very far from being mere compliments in my case. Allow me
to wish you many happy returns. '

'I thank you, ma'am,' replied the Doctor.

'Many, many, many, happy returns,' said the Old Soldier. 'Not only
for your own sake, but for Annie's, and John Maldon's, and many other
people's. It seems but yesterday to me, John, when you were a little
creature, a head shorter than Master Copperfield, making baby love to
Annie behind the gooseberry bushes in the back-garden. '

'My dear mama,' said Mrs. Strong, 'never mind that now. '

'Annie, don't be absurd,' returned her mother. 'If you are to blush to
hear of such things now you are an old married woman, when are you not
to blush to hear of them? '

'Old? ' exclaimed Mr. Jack Maldon. 'Annie? Come! '

'Yes, John,' returned the Soldier. 'Virtually, an old married woman.
Although not old by years--for when did you ever hear me say, or who has
ever heard me say, that a girl of twenty was old by years! --your cousin
is the wife of the Doctor, and, as such, what I have described her. It
is well for you, John, that your cousin is the wife of the Doctor. You
have found in him an influential and kind friend, who will be kinder
yet, I venture to predict, if you deserve it. I have no false pride.
I never hesitate to admit, frankly, that there are some members of our
family who want a friend. You were one yourself, before your cousin's
influence raised up one for you. '

The Doctor, in the goodness of his heart, waved his hand as if to make
light of it, and save Mr. Jack Maldon from any further reminder. But
Mrs. Markleham changed her chair for one next the Doctor's, and putting
her fan on his coat-sleeve, said:

'No, really, my dear Doctor, you must excuse me if I appear to dwell
on this rather, because I feel so very strongly. I call it quite my
monomania, it is such a subject of mine. You are a blessing to us. You
really are a Boon, you know. '

'Nonsense, nonsense,' said the Doctor.

'No, no, I beg your pardon,' retorted the Old Soldier. 'With nobody
present, but our dear and confidential friend Mr. Wickfield, I cannot
consent to be put down. I shall begin to assert the privileges of a
mother-in-law, if you go on like that, and scold you. I am perfectly
honest and outspoken. What I am saying, is what I said when you first
overpowered me with surprise--you remember how surprised I was? --by
proposing for Annie. Not that there was anything so very much out of
the way, in the mere fact of the proposal--it would be ridiculous to say
that! --but because, you having known her poor father, and having known
her from a baby six months old, I hadn't thought of you in such a light
at all, or indeed as a marrying man in any way,--simply that, you know. '

'Aye, aye,' returned the Doctor, good-humouredly. 'Never mind. '

'But I DO mind,' said the Old Soldier, laying her fan upon his lips. 'I
mind very much. I recall these things that I may be contradicted if I am
wrong. Well! Then I spoke to Annie, and I told her what had happened.
I said, "My dear, here's Doctor Strong has positively been and made you
the subject of a handsome declaration and an offer. " Did I press it in
the least? No. I said, "Now, Annie, tell me the truth this moment; is
your heart free? " "Mama," she said crying, "I am extremely young"--which
was perfectly true--"and I hardly know if I have a heart at all. " "Then,
my dear," I said, "you may rely upon it, it's free. At all events, my
love," said I, "Doctor Strong is in an agitated state of mind, and
must be answered. He cannot be kept in his present state of suspense. "
"Mama," said Annie, still crying, "would he be unhappy without me? If he
would, I honour and respect him so much, that I think I will have him. "
So it was settled. And then, and not till then, I said to Annie, "Annie,
Doctor Strong will not only be your husband, but he will represent your
late father: he will represent the head of our family, he will represent
the wisdom and station, and I may say the means, of our family; and will
be, in short, a Boon to it. " I used the word at the time, and I have
used it again, today. If I have any merit it is consistency. '

The daughter had sat quite silent and still during this speech, with her
eyes fixed on the ground; her cousin standing near her, and looking on
the ground too. She now said very softly, in a trembling voice:

'Mama, I hope you have finished? ' 'No, my dear Annie,' returned the Old
Soldier, 'I have not quite finished. Since you ask me, my love, I reply
that I have not. I complain that you really are a little unnatural
towards your own family; and, as it is of no use complaining to you. I
mean to complain to your husband. Now, my dear Doctor, do look at that
silly wife of yours. '

As the Doctor turned his kind face, with its smile of simplicity and
gentleness, towards her, she drooped her head more. I noticed that Mr.
Wickfield looked at her steadily.

'When I happened to say to that naughty thing, the other day,' pursued
her mother, shaking her head and her fan at her, playfully, 'that there
was a family circumstance she might mention to you--indeed, I think, was
bound to mention--she said, that to mention it was to ask a favour;
and that, as you were too generous, and as for her to ask was always to
have, she wouldn't. '

'Annie, my dear,' said the Doctor. 'That was wrong. It robbed me of a
pleasure. '

'Almost the very words I said to her! ' exclaimed her mother. 'Now
really, another time, when I know what she would tell you but for this
reason, and won't, I have a great mind, my dear Doctor, to tell you
myself. '

'I shall be glad if you will,' returned the Doctor.

'Shall I?